Fear
by Aro
Summary: One shot ROMY -- Rogue must survive in a world where mutants, nor her, exist and where destiny still has a way of achieving fate. -- . “I jus’ couldn’t let a belle fille like yourself leave without my phone number.”


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                  Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men: Evolution

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                  **PROLOGUE**: _Uncharted Territory_

                  --

                  Her body seemed as if it were floating. It reminded her of her last dentist appointment when she had been put on laughing gas while they drilled her teeth. Much to her surprise, she didn't laugh, instead she felt in a state of bliss, as if she were lying sprawled out on a cloud, without a care in the world.

                  Her mind was racing while her body seemed paralyzed, beneath her control. Oh sure, she could feel her hands, her feet, her legs and arms but she could not move them. An eternally seemed to pass as she tried to gain control of her limbs, but no matter how hard she tried, no matter how much she concentrated she couldn't do as much as lift a finger.

                  She often tried to remember what last happened to her but it seemed as if the last few events that had happened were blocked from her viewing. It was as if someone had set up parental control on her memories, only allowing her small glimpses of past events.

                  She remembered seeing Remy LeBeau, alias Gambit, in a flashback, and his cocky smirk that had made her pulse race. It confused her greatly in knowing that the last time she had seen the Cajun was when he kidnapped her and brought her to New Orleans. During the battle of Apocalypse she had not seem him once.

                  She also remembered that she was looking for someone. Sometimes it was as if Professor Charles Xavier was talking aside of the short flashbacks, speaking about a mission. Unfortunately, static clung to his words, making them unintelligible.

                  After so long, she felt hopeless. Tears burned her eyeballs underneath her closed eyelids as a lump formed in her throat and a knot tightened in her stomach.

                  It seemed as if forever she just floated there, slowly swaying down into reality.

                  --

                  It happened quickly.

                  She finally felt control over her hands. A static kind of pain seemed to cling to them, as if they had fallen asleep and were now waking up.

                  It wasn't long until the same bearable static pain passed through her legs and lingered around her toes. Excitement rushed through her veins, and for once, she felt hyper and yet so impatient.

                  Her fingertips moved inward slowly one day. They reached into her palm, and within a short period of time, they tightened into a fist.

                  Her eyes fluttered opened, not needing much time to adjust to the dim room. After a few blinks, a slight blurriness faded, making her vision as clear as it should be in the dark room. 

                  "What?" Her voice cracked and her throat felt raw and sore. "Where the hell—" She cut herself off, wincing at the feeling of her strained voice, which hadn't lost its Southern twang. She struggled to sit up, using her elbows to push herself up as her muscles unwillingly went along with the slow movements.

                  An IV was attached to the top of her hands. She made a face at it, looking around the room, only to realize that she was in a small hospital room. There was one chair, which she had noticed, had her clothes neatly folded on it. Without much thought, she ripped the IV from her hand.

                  Her mind was full of empty thoughts as she set her bare hand upon the cool metal rail. They had put the sides up on the bed. Who they were, she didn't know nor now did she care. She lifted up her other arm to see a clear plastic band around it, which clear read in black marker, Jane Doe.

                  "Jane Doe?" She squinted her eyes at it, not understanding the meaning of it. With a heavy sigh, her eyes watered up. "I got to get out of 'ere." Fighting back confused tears, she used her weak arms to put the sidebars down. After doing so, she swung her tired legs, which felt heavy, over the side. Taking a deep breath, she gently slid off the bed only to have her legs fall out from under her.

                  She landed on the ground with a thud and a groan. Cursing to herself, she made her self get up, hating the fact her body didn't agree with her mind. Clad in only the hospital attire, she walked slowly over to the chair, picking up her clothes; black jeans, black tanktop and an off the shoulder purple sweatshirt. She made a face at her clothing, demanding to know why she would wear that on a mission. She had to remind herself that she didn't even know if she had gone on the mission.

                  She slipped into the small bathroom, setting her clothes in the sink as she flipped on the light switch. Taking a deep breath, she glanced at her reflection in the mirror only to reveal her make up free face. Her stomach felt fluttery as a single tear escaped from her eye and ran freely, yet lonely, down her pale cheek.

                  "What happened?" She asked, her voice no higher than a raspy whisper. Her white fringes, which had once framed her face, now hung from around her face, nearly touching her shoulders. Her auburn hair now flowed past her shoulders. Her facial features seemed aged, but not by much. She just shook her head in despair.

                  --

                  She slipped her feet into her black sneakers, quickly lacing them up and tying them. She noticed the tiny drops of blood on the white sheets of her bed, but shrugged it off as she walked into the bathroom, washing off the dried blood off her hand. '_I have to get out of here. I have to get home._' She told herself as she walked over to the shut door. She grasped the knob, closing her eyes. Her body still felt stiff and tired, but she couldn't let that get to her know. When she got back to the institute, she promised herself a long, luscious hot bath and a nap in her cozy bed. Snapping her eyes open, she opened the door.

                  The hallway was empty. The clock on the wall read that it was a quarter after eight. '_A.M. o' P.M.?_' She asked herself, deciding she'd get her answer when she got outside. In quick strides, she walked down the hall, opposite of the nurse station. Feel her heart beat against her chest; she pressed the down button to the elevator. She glanced behind her shoulder to see someone walking out of the room. Sucking in air, she quickly got into the elevator as soon as the doors opened.

                  She cowered in the corner of the small elevator as it stopped on its way to the next floor. The door opened, making her flinch as someone entered the small shaft.

                  "Good evening." A man said, greeting her with a smile. She just blinked at him surprised. "You just get done visiting someone?" He asked in a friendly voice.

                  She nodded her head numbly, wrapping her arms around her body, feeling insecure. She kept her eyes on the ground as she felt the man's eyes burn holes through her. When the doors opened, he stepped out without saying another word. When she realized that the stop had been the first floor, she mentally cursed at herself.

                  --

                  She dragged her feet down the street, staring down, particularly at nothing. It was dark out, and although it wasn't cold, there was a chilly breeze in the air. In her jeans was stuffed a twenty-dollar bill and a few cents. The mansion was only a mile away, and although her body didn't feel up to it, she felt the need to walk there.

                  A smile had curved on her pale pink lips when she saw the gates leading to the institute. Her feet started moving quickly as she greeted the gate, only to see a bulldozer and a half knocked down old building on the estate. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped.

                  She felt lightheaded and dizzy as she stumbled back in surprise. Shaking her head, refusing to believe it, she walked away, in search of a phone.

                  --

                  "Well, good evening miss." The bartender had greeted her as she sat down on a stood. "Haven't seen you around this joint before. You new in town?"

                  Not feeling herself, she nodded. "Is there a phone I can use 'round here?"

                  The man nodded, reaching under the counter to pull out a black cordless phone. "Keep it charged under there." He set down the phone in front of her. "Just set it back down when you're done." Cleaning out a glass with a white rag, he walked towards the other side of the counter where a woman was leaning over, waiting for him to get her drink.

                  With trembling fingers, she dialed up the number to the institute, only to hear that the phone has been disconnected. She tried different numbers, all seemed to be disconnected or no longer in service. She had called both Kitty and Jean's cell, only to get an out of service message. With a tired sigh, she set down the phone.

                  Never in her life had Rogue felt like crying. She bit down on her lower lip as she leaned forward on her elbows, wondering what she was going to do.

                  "Everything all right, miss?" She glanced up to see the friendly bartender staring at her.

                  She felt herself nodding again, while she was shaking her head mentally. "Yeah." She forced a smile as she slid the phone forward and got off the seat. "Thank ya, mister." She walked away, feeling a great weight on her chest. She didn't dare let one tear escape her glossy eyes; in fear of complete stress she wouldn't stop crying. She buried her hands in her pockets, having another fear of absorbing someone in public.

                  Someone brushed past her, knocking her slightly off balance. "'Scuse me." A voice had warned, not even bothering to apologize. She narrowed her eyes at the short man as he slipped through the crowd and out the door. Her eyes suddenly widened.

                  'Logan?' She felt someone lightly grab her shoulder, but her mind hadn't registered it for she broke into the run, wanting to catch up with the rude man who had bumped into her. She ran into the empty streets only to see the roaring sound of a motorcycle take off.

                  The little hope she had flew away as a gust of wind hit her, causing her to shudder.

                  "_Mademoiselle_?" Hairs stuck up alongside her neck and her arms as she twirled around to be greeted with warm, familiar brown eyes. "You dropped this." Without their eyes parting, he gently put something into her hand. She felt mesmerized by his brown orbs but was brought back to reality when she lifted her arm up to see a slip of paper in her hand.

                  "I didn't drop this." She observed, her eyes skimming the numbers as she glanced back at him. "Oh my god." She whispered when she saw Gambit standing before her. It had to be Gambit, the only difference was the fact he wasn't wearing gloves and his eyes were normal. "Gambit."

                  "Remy." He corrected, wiggling his brows at her. "I jus' couldn't let a _belle fille_ like yourself leave without my phone number."

                  "Gambit." She repeated, breathless as she stared down at her bare hands. "You touched me." A swirl of different emotions passed her, leaving her dizzy. "What happened, Gambit?"

                  Her narrowed his eyes at her, "Are you all right?" He placed a hand on her shoulder to which she jerked away. "What's wrong with you?"

                  "Somethin' happened, Gambit."

                  He rolled his eyes, cursing mentally at himself for picking the crazy ones. "Told you, the name is Remy."

                  Now, she rolled her eyes at him. "I know that, Remy LeBeau. Since when do you go by that?"

                  "Since I was born?" He cocked a brow at her, "Didn't catch your name."

                  "Stop playin' games, Gambit. I want to know what happened. I ain't in the mood for this. What happened to the institute?"

                  He gave her an appraising look. "_Institute_? That explains it."

                  "I'm so confused." She dropped her shoulders and lowered her head. Feeling bad for her, the Cajun set a consoling hand on her shoulder. "Please be serious. Tell me what happened." She lifted her head, revealing the tears that slid down her white cheeks.

                  He bit down on his lower lip, unknowing of what to say. "What's your name?" To that, she let out an aggravated sigh and jerked away from him again.

                  "Rogue." She snapped, "My name is _Rogue_." Anger and exhaustion overwhelmed her. A small sob escaped her lips as she took a step forward, burying her head into Remy's chest.

                  He felt speechless, as he placed one hand on her lower back, allowing her to cry into his chest.

                  --

                  **PART ONE**: _Confusion and Truth Resides Within Us_ 

                  --

                  She sipped the hot chocolate slowly, closing her eyes to enjoy the feeling of the warm liquid slide down her throat and fill her with warmth. She cupped the mug tightly, holding the rim against her lips, allowing the arising steam to gently tickle her nose.

                  Gambit, or Remy, had insisted she come over his place when he learned she had nowhere to go. He now stood in the doorway of his living room, staring at her; studying her. A small sigh escaped his lips. He couldn't have just let her go. With only a twenty-dollar bill in her pocket, she wouldn't have gotten anything except a cardboard box in an abandoned alley. He felt as if he could trust her, and even in a way, he felt he knew her.

                  "You can sit down." Her Southern voice broke through his thoughts. He blinked, only to realize that she had now set down the mug on the table in front of her and was now staring at him. Without saying anything, he sat down at the end of the couch. "I'm sorry. I really appreciate this. Things just are really confusin' right now." He didn't miss the glooming sadness in her eyes. "Why are you here? Doesn't Jean-Luc need you back in New Orleans?"

                  His brows rose in surprise. "I'm here on a mission for him. Headin' back home on Friday." He leaned forward, wondering how much she knew about him.

                  "Must be hard." She whispered, her throat still sore and itchy. "Your adoptive father bein' the head of the Thieves Guild."

                  "Who the hell are you?" He suddenly asked through clenched teeth as he stood up. "I swear to God, if you're playin' games with me—"

                  "I ain't playin' games, Gambit. I know you." She stood up, anger flashing through her eyes. "It's hard to explain but somethin' happened—"

                  "This ain't the Twilight Zone, Rogue." He laughed, rolling his eyes. "What kind of name is Rogue anyway?"

                  "What kind of name is Remy?" She snapped right back, in a beat. "I know you're confused but so am I. I just woke up and everythin' is different. _Everythin'_!" She threw her arms up in the air. "The last date I can even 'member is in July, 2004. Then suddenly, it's like _winter_."

                  He gave her a strange look. "It _is_ winter. December twentieth, 2008."

                  "2008?" She asked in bewilderment, "What the hell happened to 2005, 2006 and 2007?"

                  "Time." He answered bitterly, not in the mood to deal with this.

                  "Well, thank you Einstein. Can't get anything past you." Rubbing her throbbing temples, she sat back down. "So, we don't have our powers and more than four years has passed. This can't be the future 'cause he doesn't know me." She mumbled a few other things to no one in particular.

                  "Take your medication lately?" He asked sarcastically, turning his back to her. She sat up straight, rolling up the sleeve to her sweatshirt. She ran her fingers over the identification bracelet, which still read 'Jane Doe.'

                  She closed her eyes and leaned back. '_I'm not even sure of who I am_.' She cracked open her eyelids enough to stare down at her hands. '_O' what I am anymore. I just want to go home.' _"Do you have a pen an' a piece of paper?" She asked after a few minutes of silence.

                  Remy walked into the hotel bedroom and brought out a pencil and a notebook. "What are you goin' to do? Write a letter back to the mother ship?"

                  "Yeah, an' I'm goin' to order a castration." He just smirked, watching as she scribbled on the paper. After a minute, she handed him the paper, "Any names look familiar?"

                  The names read, 'Charles Xavier. Ororo Munroe. Logan. Jean Grey. Scott Summers. Kurt Wagner. Kitty Pryde.' She had just listed the names at the tip of her tongue.

                  "I remember hearin' the name Ororo before but that's all." He answered with a shrug, setting the paper down. She frowned, bringing her knees up to her chest. "Sorry I ain't much help." He couldn't help but to feel sympathy, especially since there wasn't much he could do for her.

                  "This sucks." She mumbled, "Life sucks."

                  He nodded, folding his arms over his chest. "Not everyday you try to hit on someone who knows so much about you. Where did the name Gambit come from?"

                  "It's your codename. I don't know. Mutants feel the need to give themselves a codename that usually reflects on their given powers." She made a face, "An' some don't."

                  "I'm a mutant?"

                  "Were. Was. Is. _I don't know_." She stood up, feeling her eyes begin to water up again. "I have to go home." She didn't need him to remind her that she didn't have a home. "Maybe I still have Irene back in Mississippi."

                  "River rat." The corner of his lips tugged back into a smile.

                  "Swamp rat." She shot back, "It's weird." The Southern _belle_ walked over to him, reaching up to touch his face. She gently cupped his chin, "It's almost as if I don't even exist here. Like I'm a figment of your imagination." Her thumb caressed over his lips.

                  He set his hand over hers, kissing the side of her thumb as he gazed into her green eyes. "I haven't even known you for eighty minutes an' yet.."

                  "_I_ know you." She felt her heart flutter, knowing she couldn't explain how well she knew him, since she had seen his memories and had heard his thoughts. The weight on her shoulders seemed to get heavier when she remembered that it had been Gambit she absorbed, and this was Remy LeBeau, who probably didn't even remember her name. "Thanks for puttin' up with me."

                  "You won't be sayin' that when I kick you out in three minutes." With his other hands, he tugged on a ringlet of her white hair. She just stared at him, expressionless. "I'm kiddin' Ro' but I am leavin' in three days. It's like a three night stand." She didn't even do as much as crack a smile. "How close were we?" He asked, his tone serious all of a sudden.

                  Her mind screamed ' we are meant to be' but the cat got her tongue. Silence sure was golden at that moment. He took her wordless response as an answer as he leaned in, licking his lips, wanting to capture her luscious lips with his. With one hand still placed over hers, which was still cupping his chin, he moved the other, which had tugged on her hair, down and settled it on her hip, bringing her in more towards him.

                  "Tell me what you know." He hissed silently to her, his breath warm against her lips. "Tell me everythin'." He squeezed her hip and gently squeezed her cupped hand.

                  "You won't believe a word I say." She offered him a small smile, knowing her answer wouldn't suffice. "You're not even supposed to be touchin' me. I can't have skin-to-skin contact. This ain't real, Gambit."

                  "Call me Remy." His grip on her hip loosened and he finally let go of her hand. "There's just somethin' about you, Rogue."

                  "Just don't get your sausage caught in your zipper." It was a poor shot at a joke but she couldn't help it. Her stomach was fluttering like mutated to be king sized kangaroos were jumping around trying to fly only to fall flat on their faces because they don't have wings. "I haven't seen you in a while." She placed her hands on his shoulders as she tried to remember the last time she saw him but could only remember the time he kidnapped her. She bit down on her lower lip, knowing she had to see him after that.

                  "I haven't seen you.." His arms moved forward, playing with the bottom of her sweatshirt. "Ever. I usually ain't this trustin'."

                  "Do you have a reason not to trust me?"

                  "For all I know you could be lyin' an' be workin' for the Rippers."

                  "You know I'm not." She stated knowingly, staring into his eyes as she pressed her body against his. "How can you trust me so easily?"

                  "My mind is tellin' me not to." He whispered, "But my heart is tellin' me to." Before she could response, he kissed her full lips. Her hands trailed up from his shoulders to around the back of his neck while his arms wrapped around her frail waist. They broke apart for much needed air, their eyes meeting, breathless. Silence filled the air, making her nervous. She replied with the first thing that came to mind.

                  "Do you like cards?"

                  --

                  Never had he realized how uncomfortable it was to sleep on a couch. Especially on an old, worn out, hotel couch that practically engulfed his body. With a tired groan, he sat up, running his hands through his tousled hair.

                  "You can sleep in the bed. I ain't sleepin' tonight." Surprised, he looked up to see the Southerner standing in the doorway leading to the bedroom. Her sweatshirt was off, leaving her in her jeans and tanktop. "After all the trainin' I went through.." She shook her head; "They never prepared us for somethin' like this."

                  He stretched out his arms, smirking a little, "Trainin'?" He asked, amused, "What kind of trainin' did you do?"

                  "Combat and stuff." She shrugged, "Got up to red belt, too." She winked at him as she took a few steps forward. "I can easily hurl you over my shoulder."

                  "We'll have to practice that, no?" He leaned back, rubbing his arm. "Good to know you can take care of yourself." He felt her sit down next to him, her arms softly touching his.

                  "Uh huh." She mumbled without much care. "I sure can." She turned and looked at him, shifting her body towards him. "You think I'm dreamin'?"

                  "Of me? I don't see why not. But how can I be dreamin' too?" When she mumbled something about him not existing, he turned to her, stroking the side of her face. Her eyes widened as her heart pounded against her chest in a quick rhythm. "You really think I don't exist?" He leaned in, softly kissing the side of her mouth.

                  "I think it's goin' to be hard facin' you if I get back."

                  "If I know myself, I—" He stopped in mid sentence with a soft chuckle. "Gambit, huh?" Why the hell was he falling for this—for her? It made no sense but he couldn't help himself. "Gambit LeBeau?"

                  "Just Gambit." She answered softly. "An' you're still as cocky as ever."

                  "You are referrin' to my mouth, right?" She slapped his arm playfully, laughing lightly. Although she was laughing, he wasn't oblivious to how she really felt. Her eyes were like the window to how she was feeling, her soul. They looked both lonely and sad. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, wanting to kiss away her pain. "Rogue."

                  "Gam—Remy." She corrected herself with some pride. Even without his red on black eyes, he was still Gambit. "You look like you're in deep thought." She sniffed the air teasingly. "Somethin' smells like burnin' rubber."

                  He blinked, and in a beat, replied with, "You usually smell that when I'm alone with a _fille_ in a room."

                  She rolled her eyes. "I fell right into that." She then proceeded to rest her head on his shoulder. She shut her eyes, inhaling deeply through her nose. A light brush crept onto her pale cheeks as she recognized his signature scent. Her body relaxed, molding into his.

                  "An' you fell into a slumber." He smirked, speaking softly when he noticed that she had fallen asleep minutes later. He rested his cheek on top of her head and ever so slowly, he found himself falling asleep.

                  --

                  **PART TWO**: _The Lost & Never Found_

                  --

                  Never had she been so happy to take a shower. There she stood, eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of the warm water hitting her naked body and running down her form. She already had washed her hair with a small bottle of shampoo and condition that the hotel had provided. She had used the small wrapped bar of soap (she had unwrapped it before setting foot in the shower) to clean her body. She hadn't felt so refreshed in the less than twenty-four days she had been awake.

                  Ever since she had woken up there was a small voice in back of her mind, reminding her of home. Never had she longed for it. Her eyes jolted open as an unfamiliar fear swept through her. Home. What was so weird about that word? Was it the fact she was trapped in the future where mutants didn't exist?

                  "Don't think about it." She told herself, although no matter how hard she tried, she kept thinking about everything. Her latent feelings for Gambit had awoken, leaving her feeling like a ditzy fan girl in front of Remy. She hated it. All he had to do was look at her and she felt weak in the knees. A certain emptiness remained in her heart due to the fact Remy wasn't her Gambit.

                  With a heavy sigh she turned off the water and stood in the shower for several minutes, wanting to clear her head. She pressed her back against the tiles and just stood there. She stared down at her hands, wondering how long this was going to last. Was she even a mutant anymore? As much as she loved the idea of not having her mutant powers, this just confused her. A warning and a manual would have sufficed for her.

                  She closed her eyes, becoming aware of the water dripping from her soaked hair and falling down her body. Why couldn't she remember what had happened to cause this?

                  A loud, sharp knocking sound broke through her thoughts, surprising her. "You all right?" She heard Remy shout. Nodding her head, she realized he couldn't hear her nod. She took a step forward, only to fall out of the shower. She let out a wail, grabbing the shower curtain as gravity pulled her down.

                  So, there she laid on her stomach, propped up on her elbows, her chin rested on her hands. The peach colored shower curtain rested upon her lower half. "I'm a little down." She had answered coyly when he opened the door to see her laying there.

                  "Not havin' the best luck lately?"

                  "I'd ask you to help me up but then you'd be havin' all the good luck." She answered back, glancing down at the cleavage shot he got from his position in the doorway.

                  He smirked, most likely enjoying his view. Where else would his eyes settle? "You're gettin' the floor wet." He just had to point that out, knowing she'd take it the wrong way, for his own amusement. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other, leaning against the doorframe.

                  She blew frizzy wet strands of hair out from her face. "The floor ain't the only thing gettin' wet." She had shot back, sticking her tongue out at him. "Now, would you mind givin' a girl some privacy? Bargin' in on a girl like that. Who do you think ya are? Colin Farrell?"

                  "You're one of a kind, Rogue." He had laughed, walking out of the bathroom, gently shutting the door behind him.

                  "Rogue." She had whispered, sitting up. "That is who I am." She glanced down at herself, frowning slightly. "Right?" Silence was her only answer. She shrugged her shoulders as she gathered herself onto her feet. "I'm not even sure anymore."

                  --

                  "What are you doin'?" Remy sat on the floor of the small room, hunched over the coffee table. He had papers scattered around him, some with writing, others will some sort of drawings. He looked up to see Rogue standing there in her jeans and tanktop, brushing her long, wet hair.

                  "Have to get ready for a heist tonight. It _is_ the reason I'm here." He didn't seem too interested in the papers. To her, he looked like an eager boy, awaiting his parents to pick him up from camp. Why she thought that was beyond her. Sometimes she felt her own thoughts and feelings didn't even belong to her. "Does that bother you?"

                  "Huh?" She blinked, confused. He just gave her a look, to which she replied with, "You're a thief. There ain't much you can do that'll bother me."

                  "You seem so open with it." He mumbled, picking up a loose-leaf piece of paper, appearing a little too interested in it, as if he were trying to keep himself busy.

                  "Ain't nothin' I can do about it." She sat down on the couch, the brush next to her, her hands placed neatly in her lap. "I respect who you are an' what you do."

                  "I wish the police saw it that way." He pursed his lips, mused by his response. "Since you do that, want to do me a favor tonight?"

                  Her heart pounded against her ribcage as she sat up straight, her body stiffening. "Yeah, sure." She said coolly, playing it off. "As long as it doesn't involve lube an' handcuffs." She added with nervousness, oblivious to him.

                  He glanced up at her from the paper, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement. "Come with me."

                  Her brows rose, along with the hair alongside the back of her neck and her arms. "What?" She asked, as if she hadn't heard him correctly. She had.

                  "I just need you to drive. You can wait for me around the back. It'll save me time." He glanced back down at the paper and then back up at her. "You do know how to drive, right?"

                  "Sure I do." She answered with a smile. It wasn't a comforting smile. As long as he had his getaway car, everything was fine. Unfortunately, he had never been in a car with a girl who was taught by boys in overalls in wide-open fields. "Anything else ya need me to do, Gumbo?"

                  He smirked, "Gumbo?"

                  "Gumbo." She stated, pleased with the nickname. "Gambit. Swamp rat. 'Hey you, get out of those bushes and away from my daughter.' Nicknames seem to come naturally to you."

                  "A lot of things come naturally to me." He pointed out, only to receive a look from her. "An' I don't mean it like _that_. You need to get your mind out of the gutter."

                  She rolled her eyes, "So do you."

                  "Mine has attached itself to the gutter." Remy stated with a wink. She just sighed, leaning forward, her eyes skimming through the papers.

                  "Why am I not surprised?"

                  "Because you know me so well." It had come out more bitter than he intended it to. He noticed she didn't have quick-witted comment for that. "Didn't mean it like that." He mumbled, hoping he hadn't offended her.

                  "Then how did you mean it?" She asked innocently, raising her brows in interest.

                  He gazed out into space for a split second before shaking his head. "I mean it like how I meant it." He blinked. "Now you're just makin' me confuse myself."

                  "Aw, Rem, you do it to yourself all by your lonesome self."

                  "Thanks." Dropping the paper he was holding carelessly to the ground, he got to his feet. "C'mon, we have stuff to do before tonight."

                  "Like what?" She asked, scrunching up her nose, wondering what the thief would need.

                  "A car, for starters."

                  "That would help, wouldn't it?" It wasn't his fault motorcycles were too noisy.

                  "Pretty much, _oui_."

                  --

                  "We're rentin' a car?" She had asked, making a face when her and Remy had arrived at a car rental service station. "Do you have any idea on what people do when they rent cars?" She was kind of disappointed in the technology, yet wasn't surprised.

                  "You forget who you're talkin' to?"

                  "Oh yeah. You _are_ one of _those_ people." She patted his shoulder as she began to walk away from him. "I'm goin' to go get somethin' to drink. Want anything?"

                  He waved his hand, "No. Just be careful an' don't terrorize people. That's my job."

                  She just laughed to herself as she crossed the street and entered the convenient store. Without much thought, she grabbed a Pepsi from the cooler.

                  "Rogue."

                  She stopped dead in her tracks and slowly looked around to see no one in sight, except for the casher who was too interested in their hangnail.

                  "Rogue." The unfamiliar voice got louder as it called her. Was she going crazy? Hell, even more crazy? She didn't want to find out. She quickly set the can of Pepsi down on a rack and left the store. She half expected to hear someone call out 'Can you hear me now? Good' for some odd reason.

                  --

                  She lost him. She had lost Remy. She walked around the rental car dealership parking lot to see him nowhere in sight. Had he left her there? She shook that thought away, knowing he needed her for tonight.

                  "Lookin' for someone?" An arm slipped around her waist and a key was dangled in her face. "Got it." His body was pressed up against hers; his breath was hot against her cool flesh. "You all right?" He asked smirking slightly when he felt her body tense up.

                  "Somethin' doesn't seem right." She mumbled, her eyes hazy.

                  "You don't have to drive the—"

                  "Not that." She mumbled, seeming lost at thought. She shook her head and waved her hand in the air, gesturing to what she was about to say, "It's nothin'. Never mind."

                  Remy didn't dare pressure the girl. He could tell that the Southerner had a fiery attitude and if she hit him, he might wake up from this dream. He just felt so close to a girl he hadn't even known for twenty-four hours. It seemed so unnatural yet so real at the same time.

                  --

                  She gripped the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles were white. She tapped her foot impatiently as she chewed on the inside of her cheek nervously. She was an X-Man; she was supposed to be stopping this from happening, not taking part in it. But here she was, driving the getaway car for Remy. For a while, she didn't even realize she had been holding her breath. Sooner or later, she'd have to realize that though.

                  Suddenly, after what seemed like she was waiting for an eternally, the passenger side door swung open and Remy slide in, his trench coat spilling in after him. The second he sat down, she stepped down on the gas, making him have to slam shut the door as the car spewed down the alleyway.

                  "_Merde_!" The Cajun had managed to yell as he realized that the tail of his coat was stuck in the door. "You really know how to take off." Believe me, it wasn't a compliment. "You could slow down before you drive us into the Atlantic Ocean!"

                  Rolling her eyes, she glanced sideways at him, noticing him inserting a small brown pouch into an inside pocket of his trench coat. "What did you have to steal?"

                  "Somethin'." He answered, shifting in his seat. "'Don't know why Jean-Luc wanted it so bad but I went anyway. Security was easy too."

                  "Probably seein' how royal you are." She eased up on the gas, stepping down a little more on the brake. She wasn't in the mood to lose control of the vehicle and end up killing them both.

                  "Whatever." He mumbled in disbelief as he glanced behind his seat. With a sigh of relief, he sunk back into his car seat, relaxing. "This almost was a pointless trip."

                  Her brows arched up as she looked at him from the rearview mirror. "Really?" A small smile formed on her pursed lips as her shoulders dropped; now that the 'heist' was over her body started to relax.

                  "Oui—they have some good bars in Bayville." He smirked, glancing at her sideways for her reaction.

                  She just scoffed, "An' I see you just got so much action in those 'good bars.'"

                  Remy stretched out his arms and then folded them behind his head. "I do have a special _fille_ stayin' in my hotel room with me, don't I?" He shifted uncomfortably again, setting his hands back in his lap.

                  "Haven't seen 'er."

                  "Really? I got a _great_ frontal view of 'er this mornin'." To that remark, she stuck her tongue out at him. "You use your tongue a lot, I noticed—" He winked at her, "Does it get a lot of exercise?"

                  Her face saddened, "Actually, I've never kissed anyone before." Her pale cheeks turned a light shade of pink. "—Until you, that is." She glanced over at him, only to see his face was now expressionless. "My powers, remember? No skin-to-skin contact."

                  "That sucks, _cherie_."

                  "Yeah, it really blows."

                  "Doesn't mean you have to spend the rest of your life alone." He spoke softly, gazing out the car window as drops of rain splattered across the window.

                  She was silent for a moment before responding, "It's rainin'." She reached forward, pushing a button. The windshield wipers didn't turn on, instead, the hood of the car popped up. "Damn it." She snapped, pushing another button only to be greeted with blaring polka music. "Ugh!" She grunted, pushing yet another button, only to have the heat in the air turn on. "Stop!" She winced as she looked around and pressed another button. The car windows rolled down. "No!" She yelled in aggravation, pushing another button. The car doors locked. "Remy!" She finally snapped in frustration. She looked over, only to see him laughing hysterically. "This ain't funny!" She yelled over the music.

                  "Sure it is!" He yelled back, laughing, as she slammed her fist into the control panel. The windshield wipers then proceeded to move back and forth.

                  Muttering choice words, she stopped the car and, after taking a deep breath, she turned off the music and then everything else. Remy leaned towards her, planting a kiss on her cheek.

                  "I love how you work under pressure." He teased, his dark eyes sparkling with happiness. She groaned and collapsed over the steering wheel. Chuckling, he rubbed her back. "It's all right, Rogue. The mean ol' car will never bother you again. I promise."

                  "Really?" She asked weakly, lifting her head.

                  "I'll protect you." He smiled warmly, receiving the same smile in return.

                  --

                  "Rogue—wake up." It was a quarter to six in the morning when she was awoken from her slumber. She had been sleeping on the bed, while he slept on the couch.

                  "What?" She wasn't a morning person, and being awakened by someone shaking her at nearly six A.M. would not please her, at all. She sat up, wiping the sleep out of her eyes. "Remy?" She blinked, only to realize she was alone in the room. Her pulse raced with fear as she threw back the covers. Throwing her legs over the edge, she stood up and listened carefully; she could hear Remy talking to someone. "Remy?" She called softly again, the floorboards groaning under her footsteps as she walked out of the room and into the next room to see the Cajun standing there, talking on a phone. She stood in the doorway, hugging herself.

                  "_Que peux-je faire_?" She heard him mutter. By the tone of his anxious voice, she knew something was wrong. She frowned slightly as he began to talk quickly in French. Although she knew French, and could speak it, she wasn't good at catching at what people who spoke fluently in French said. She did, however, recognize the words of saying good-bye in French right before he hung up. After the soft click, the room filled with silence. "_Merde_."

                  "What's wrong?" She asked softly, taking a small foot forward. He looked at her surprised, as if he hadn't known she was awake and standing there.

                  "Did I wake you up?"

                  She shook her head, "What's wrong?"

                  Guilt flashed in his eyes. "I have to head back home. My _Tante_ Mattie has fallen ill. It's important I go back." Remy didn't allow himself to show any emotions on how he was feeling but just by looking in his eyes she could tell he was worried.

                  "All right." Her voice faltered as her arms fell limply to her sides. "I understand." Her voice was empty of any emotions.

                  "Listen, Rogue—"

                  "No---" She cut him off sharply. "Don't worry about me, Remy."

                  "Rogue, will you—" He paused, "Come with me?"

                  She replayed the words in her mind in disbelief as a lump formed in her throat. "Come with you? To New Orleans?" She asked, uncertain. "Are you askin' me out of pity?"

                  "_Non_. I'm askin' you 'cause I _like_ you."

                  A delicate smile formed on her lips. "When are we leavin'?"

                  --

                  His arm hung around her shoulders as they walked into the train station in a comfortable silence. Hung over his shoulders was a duffel bag he had brought with him while her only possessions were the clothes she wore and the money in her pocket.

                  Her heart ached with nervousness as he bought the tickets. She stood there, looking around. The station wasn't crowded, but wasn't empty. Something didn't seem right.

                  '_I'm goin' home_.' She thought proudly to herself as she closed her eyes. After a few seconds, she frowned. '_Remy is goin' home. I'm just a tagalong. Why... do I feel so..._' Things around her started to fade. '_Fulfilled? No. Things feel so weird.' _Her eyes popped open only to be greeted by familiar darkness. "Remy!" She screamed, twirling around to see him standing there. Tears swelled in her eyes as he slowly started to fade into the darkness. She sprung forward, reaching out to grab him. "No!" Nothing came up in her grasp. That's all this was. This all was nothing.

                  --

                  **Epilogue**: _Going Home_

                  --

                  She shot up, the word 'no' erupting wildly from her throat. Professor Charles Xavier and an unfamiliar girl, looking of Native American descendent, stared at her with both surprised and relieved eyes. She gasped for air, her eyes felt itchy and watery.

                  "Rogue—are you all right?" The Professor asked, wheeling up closer to her bed. Rogue just stared at him, looking confused and scared. "You were in an accident on a mission."

                  Rogue ignored him, looking around the room. "Where is he?" She asked, her voice weak and full of dread. The girl just smiled at her and held out her hand.

                  "'Ello. My name is Danielle." She greeted, taking back her hand when Rogue just stared at her. "You accidentally absorbed me and another fellow while trying to find me."

                  "Remy?" Rogue asked, sounding desperate, "I had to. Is he here? Where is he?"

                  "The _cherie_ missed me?" The Cajun himself stood in the doorway, his arms folded over his chest. "I'm touched."

                  Rogue's heart seemed to skip a beat at the sound of his voice. The light showering in from outside shined on them, making his red eyes flash as he stepped inside the room. Her faced slightly deadpanned at his familiar—yet unfamiliar eyes. "I don't get it." She admitted weakly, "What happened?"

                  "You've been in a coma the past two days." Charles Xavier explained, rightfully knowing that his narrator voice made him the candidate to explain everything after it has happened.  "Both Gambit and Mirage had sneaked up on you, and you had absorbed them at the same time. Danielle, or Mirage, has the power to project fears."

                  "Project fears?" Rogue repeated softly, "Meanin' I had absorbed her power an' Remy's?" She chewed on the inside of her cheek. "Meanin' I have their psyches in my head."

                  "The Professor tried waking you up." Danielle explained with a sheepish smile, "But evidently, you were in such a deep thought that everytime he tried to reach you, he got cut off."

                  Gambit smirked at Rogue's sudden confused expression. "I think y'all are makin' her absorb too much information at once. You're confusin' the girl."

                  Professor Xavier smiled, "You are correct, Gambit. I think Rogue needs her rest now."

                  "I need a reality check." Rogue mumbled, staring at Gambit, who noticed, and winked at her. Her cheeks immediately lit up like red Christmas lights on the Fourth of July. Because you know, no one takes down those damn Christmas decorations and lights.

                  Soon enough, Charles and Mirage left, and Gambit just lingered by the doorway, his arms still crossed over his chest and his usual cocky smirk still plastered on his face. Rogue stared down at her gloved hands, knowing there was no way she could tell him what she had imagined in her head. Some of it made sense to her—mentally she had used Mirage's powers to create her own world with her and Gambit's fears.

                  "How you really feelin'?" He asked, walking over to the side of her bed. "You know I have empathy—right? You're.." He licked his lips, "Nervous. Anxious. Sad. Scared. Lusting---"

                  "Am not!" She snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. She pouted, "I ain't in the mood for your teasin' Remy."

                  He nodded to himself, "I know."

                  "You're not an X-Man." She looked up at him, their eyes meeting. "How did I manage to absorb you on a mission then?"

                  "I told you Rogue—I watch over you." Enough had been said there. "I just wanted to stay here an' make sure you were all right."

                  "Thanks." She smiled, "You've helped me a lot." A shy feeling took over unwillingly took over her. She slowly reached over and grabbed his hand. He smiled, surprised, and squeezed her hand. Rogue bit down on her lower lip, "But you have to go back home, don't you?"

                  "_Oui_, my _Tante_ Mattie has—"

                  "Fallen ill." Rogue finished his sentence with a sly smile. "You don't want to head back, do ya?"

                  Gambit shrugged his shoulders, "I'm just headin' back for her. She was there for me when I was a youngin' so I owe it to her. Even if it means puttin' up with Jean-Luc."

                  "You can do it. Jean-Luc has to respect your decision sooner or later."

                  "Right." He rose a brow at her, "Absorbin' me really changed you. Usually you'd be throwin' me over your shoulder by now."

                  Rogue just laughed uncontrollably, leaving Gambit standing there with a confused expression.

                  --

                  She stood on the front stairs of the institute, clad in her usual attire. "I'll miss you." She mumbled shyly, staring down at the ground. Her pulse began to race when she felt his gloved fingers slide under her chin and gently lift it up so her eyes met his red on black ones.

                  "I'll be back." He had promised, silently saying 'for you' to himself. There was no way Remy LeBeau was going to get sappy now.

                  "How do I know you really will?" The tied knot in her stomach tightened.

                  "I think you know I will. In your heart." He whispered, smirking down at her. Rogue nodded somberly, clasping her hand over his mouth as she stood on her toes and planted a kiss on top of her hand. His own stomach fluttered as her hand dropped. "Good—"

                  "It's never good-bye, Remy. It's.. see you later."

                  "See you later, Rogue." He smirked, turning on his heel. Rogue watched him as he walked down the front stairs and got onto his motorcycle. She sighed sadly as the roaring of his motorbike ripped through the silent air. She just stared as the bottom of his trench coat flapped in the wind as he took off, passing through the opened front gate.

                  A small smile formed on her lips as she turned around, heading back inside. She was going home, and so was he.

                  --

                  Thank you MysticBluAngel for pointing out my flaws. ;)

                  Confused about this one shot piece of crap? Me too. If you have questions, e-mail me. If you ask in the review I can't answer. As a key, Rogue fears the _future_ for mutant kind, and Remy doesn't want to go home, yadda yadda yadda.

                  I might do a sequel if there's someone out there in this cold world who actually liked this..


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